Last month at the rain-soaked Jazz Fest 2010 in New Orleans, the Black Crowes showed what they've always been about: rock 'n' roll.

It's a 20-year evolution, from straight-up Faces, Humble Pie and Rolling Stones-inspired rock to a savage Southern jam band of often-dueling brothers that still rocks hard — and always against the tide.

Thousands of Jazz Fest fans watched for one last time perhaps. The Black Crowes had recently announced they're over after August. There's no sadness or regrets.

“The feelings are great. This is a decision everybody agrees on, everybody came to,” said drummer Steve Gorman, describing it as a celebration and taking stock of “this little band that fit between Guns N' Roses and Nirvana.”

“We've never been a band that has these singular, defining moments,” he said. “We just feel we need a break and it'd be a good thing. You've got to take your foot off the gas every once and again.”

In New Orleans, however, every moment seemed poignant: “Chris Robinson gripped his microphone stand as if it were a lifeline. His sandpapered soul rasp was as potent as it's ever been,” wrote music critic Keith Spera at the New Orleans Times-Picayune. “If they keep playing like this, they will be missed.”

The Black Crowes — still flying high thanks to last year's “Before the Frost ... Until the Freeze” recorded at Levon Helm's barn studio — roll into Whitewater Amphitheater tonight. Band of Heathens and Alpha Rev open.

Guitarist Rich Robinson told the Salt Lake Tribune that the latest version of the veteran band is probably the best ever. Gorman agrees.

“We're all on the same page,” Robinson said in the same interview, acknowledging, however, that his relationship with his brother and songwriting partner remains volatile.

“We still tug at each other,” Robinson added.

Recording live in front of 200 fans at Helm's place (Chris Robinson's idea) and having The Band's drummer sit in on the last night was a dream for a band “that doesn't like to repeat itself too much.”

“His place, in the pantheon of rock 'n' roll music, is sacred,” Gorman said, “and just the fact that he was hovering around. Levon would tell you we're all peers, and none of us would ever in a million years put ourselves at that level.”

Gorman still recalls one of the Crowes' greatest shows — the sweltering, overflow club gig at White Rabbit in July 1998. “It was, like, 130 degrees in there. That's one of those ones you tend to remember,” he said.